Between the Lines
by Truish
Summary: A series of oneshotes based on cut scens from my longer story, Ode to Joy.
1. What the Heart Wants

**If this looks familiar, it's probably because it is. I posted it as a standalone a LONG time ago and pulled it because I decided it really didn't stand alone so well.**

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><p>"You love him, don't you?"<p>

If the question wasn't startling enough, its source, a girl young enough to be his daughter, made Trowa Barton wonder if anyone else had noticed that his mind was wandering.

"I'd rather not talk about it, Faith," he replied. "We're just old friends, that's all."

She only smiled that mysterious, alluring smile and shook her head knowingly.

"Don't give me that," she said. "You can't hide something like this from me. We're too much alike, Trowa."

"Oh?" He glanced down at her for the first time that evening, raising an eyebrow just so she'd giggle. "You think so?"

"Mmm," she murmured, not answering his question. "Why don't you tell him? You couldn't ask for a better setting."

Trowa shrugged and gazed out into the night. Nights were beautiful on Earth if you were far enough out of the city. The moon was still low in the sky and, without clouds to hide them, the stars were shockingly brilliant. The air was cool, but not cold, and the breeze was perfumed with the lavender that grew in the fields nearby. France was lovely this time of year. Truly romantic.

Maybe that was what had given Faith the idea.

"Why don't you tell Maggie?" Trowa asked, answering her question with a question.

It didn't bother her, though. Not the way her question bothered him.

"I love Maggie," she admitted. "But she's like my sister, Trowa. I'm not _in _love with her, not the way she wants me to be. I don't want to hurt her. And Mom—Mom would flip."

"What about your dad?"

"Dad knows," she said. "I don't know how he knows, but he does. He brought it up once—he told me that he doesn't care who I end up with as long as I'm happy. He said that having a reliable, trustworthy partner is more important than what other people might think or say about me. I don't need his approval, but I'm glad I have it."

Trowa smiled at that. They really were too much alike, at least on some levels. Maybe Faith deserved a straight answer.

"I tried telling him once," Trowa said. "A long time ago. He wasn't too happy about it. He isn't as accepting of himself as we are, Faith. He's afraid. When I told him I didn't want to keep it a secret, he told me that I ought to look for someone else and have a normal relationship. A wife. Kids. But it wasn't what I wanted, then or now."

Faith smiled. "Having the capacity to love _anyone_ doesn't automatically translate into the desire to do so, does it? The heart wants what it wants. To hell with what other people would consider normal."

"I wish we had understood that when we were your age," Trowa murmured. "It's too late for us now, though. We're too old."

That got a laugh out of her. "You're still breathing, aren't you?" she asked. "Maybe you're both older and wiser now. You should talk to him."

"What would I tell him?" he asked, trying to decide if he was taking her seriously or just humoring her.

"Tell him the truth," she replied, as if it was just as simple as that. Maybe it was that easy for her, though. Faith was a terrible liar; she'd finally given up any attempt at pretense and started speaking her mind. Trowa wished he had that kind of courage.

"I think I'm going back inside," Faith decided. "Dad spent all this time teaching me how to dance after Mom said she wanted to throw this party. It seems a little silly to put all that effort to waste. Think about it, Trowa. Really. No one who matters will think any less of you—either of you—if you decide to pursue this."

Trowa managed a smile for her, although it wasn't a particularly happy one. "When did you become the relationship expert?" he asked. "Aren't you stringing _three_ people along right now?"

She grimaced at that, and he regretted wording it quite so strongly. Faith was just too softhearted to choose one of her admirers and risk alienating the others. They were all close friends; when Faith finally made her choice, it would probably destroy their little group. And Trowa didn't think she was ready for a serious relationship yet anyway.

"You're the one who told me that I should follow my emotions," she replied, her tone slipping into the cold monotony that she'd inherited from her father. "Why don't you take a little of your own advice? Follow your heart, Trowa."

She patted his hand gently and walked back inside, where the party would probably continue for another few hours. Trowa stayed where he was, listening to the ebb and flow of the music and trying to put his head back together.

It had been years since he'd confessed his feelings. He hadn't quite been rejected—it wasn't exactly an unrequited love—it was just that he wanted an open relationship, out of the closet, and he'd been too stubborn to settle for anything else.

Now, though, he wished he'd given it a try. _It's better to have loved and lost_, he thought sadly.

The door banged behind him, but he didn't look back. It was probably Faith again, returning from her dance. She didn't like parties or close situations any more than her father did; Heero tolerated them for Relena's sake, but Faith didn't share his compunctions.

"Back so soon?" he asked. "People are going to think you have a crush on _me_ if you keep hanging around like this, Faith."

"Ah—Trowa!"

"Quatre." _She sent you, didn't she?_ he thought, glancing at his friend.

"I didn't realize you were out here," Quatre said quickly. "Faith said it was a nice night. I thought I'd come out and get some air. I'll leave if I'm bothering you."

"No," Trowa replied evenly, doing his best to keep his tone steady even though his heart was in his throat. "Stay. I'll go if—"

"No," Quatre said, his soft voice tinged with sadness. "Don't let me run you off."

The words brought back old memories, but Trowa didn't think it had been intentional. He swallowed hard, trying to calm his pounding heart. He had let Quatre run him off once and sheer stubbornness had kept him away, forcing him to abandon the one piece of advice that had kept him going throughout some of the worst hardships he'd ever faced.

He looked at Quatre again, steadily this time, and didn't look away when Quatre noticed him staring and met his gaze. There was something there, something that went deeper than the chemistry they'd always shared. Maybe it was time?

_You're still breathing, aren't you?_ he thought, sucking in a deep breath just to remind himself that he was. _It's definitely time to find out if we're both older and wiser. _

"Quatre. We should talk."

"Yeah. We should, Trowa."

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><p>Notes: I'm reposting this (I took down the original a while ago) as a sort of companion to Chapter 3 of Ode to Joy because I felt like Trowa needed a break. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!<p> 


	2. The Box

It was a small wedding.

Actually, considering that the groom was a war hero and the bride was the former Queen of the World, it was a microscopic wedding. Hilde thought it was lovely, though, and it was awfully kind of Relena to invite her, especially given the circumstances.

Duo officiated.

Hilde hadn't talked to him in weeks. He was such an ass. And now that the ceremony was over, he was out cracking jokes with everyone else, easily making himself the life of the party. Not that that was too hard what with Relena trying to divert attention away from her condition and Heero being, well, Heero.

Relena looked lovely in her dress. She hardly showed at all; it would probably be a few weeks yet before strangers even started to guess that she might be pregnant.

Hilde, on the other hand, looked like she'd shoved a balloon into her clothes. A small balloon, but still. _And our due dates are only about two weeks apart! _she thought sadly. _It's so unfair_. A dress had been out of the question for Hilde; her ankles were so swollen that she couldn't stand the thought of anyone seeing them, and her legs weren't much better. Luckily, it was cold enough out that no one bothered her about wearing pants to a wedding.

Not that many people noticed her at all—which, in all honesty, was fantastic. Hilde didn't want anyone to notice her. It was why she'd sought out the darkest, loneliest corner she could find after the ceremony ended.

Unfortunately for Hilde, her corner was neither dark enough nor lonely enough to keep everyone away. But she could hardly shoo Heero off; it was _his_ house now, too, after all.

"Shouldn't _you _be out there dancing with Relena?" she asked, flashing him a smile as he plopped down on the end table next to her chair. "This is supposed to be your day, not Duo's."

"Hn," Heero muttered. Hilde rolled her eyes. He'd softened a little after he'd really gotten serious about Relena, but Hilde didn't think he would ever be a particularly social person. Maybe that was why he was invading her space instead of celebrating with his new wife. "Relena will dance with just about anybody, and she says I owe Duo a favor."

Hilde scowled when she spotted the blue velvet box in his hand. "I'm not interested in that," she said sharply. "And, although I really appreciate everything you and Relena have done for me, what's going on between Duo and me is none of your business."

Heero didn't flinch. "Just hear me out," he said. "After that, you can do whatever you want. I only know Duo's side of the story, and he's too busy being stubborn to say anything to you himself."

"Fine," Hilde said through her teeth. "I'll listen."

She didn't want to hear it, but she'd listen to anything if it meant people would finally stop asking her why she'd broken things off with Duo. As if they even needed to ask! A responsible boyfriend did not leave town without a trace when his girlfriend revealed she was carrying his child. A responsible boyfriend didn't avoid her worried phone calls and emails, either. And a responsible boyfriend certainly didn't have to be hunted down and dragged back by his best friend.

Hilde sighed. Heero was a damn good best friend for an irresponsible boyfriend to have, she decided. Anyone else would have stayed out of it altogether.

Heero set the box on the arm of Hilde's chair, but she refused to touch it. She'd seen what was inside. She didn't want it. Or, rather, she didn't want to want it.

"It's going to look awfully bad if anyone catches you giving that to me on your wedding day," Hilde pointed out, trying for a joke and failing miserably. Heero rolled his eyes. Not that he would have laughed at a good joke. His sense of humor was still a work in progress.

"Nobody's looking at us," Heero replied. "But it is going to look bad when Duo realizes he's misplaced this. He's been carrying it around with him for weeks, hoping you'll change your mind."

Hilde made a face. Her mind was made up. Duo was too irresponsible to be a parent. She wasn't going to marry him, and his half-assed proposal—which he'd delivered immediately upon returning from God-only-knew-where—had only enforced her decision.

"I'm not going to marry him on the spur of the moment just because I'm pregnant," Hilde said flatly. "Duo doesn't know the first thing about being a parent. Or a husband. He's only doing this because he thinks he has to, and while I appreciate the gesture—"

"Hilde," Heero interrupted. "Remember that time Relena asked you to go with her when she had her mother's old jewelry appraised?"

"I don't see what this has to do with anything," Hilde complained. "That was almost a year ago."

"Relena's errand was just an excuse to get you into the store," Heero said. "So she could get your ring size for Duo."

Hilde swallowed hard. "I'm still not convinced," she said shakily. "Like I said, that was almost a year ago and he didn't—"

"It takes time to have a piece like this made to order," Heero replied, still as calm as ever. "Duo ended up on a waiting list, and the jeweler wasn't inclined to rush—until Duo showed up on his doorstep about two months ago and demanded an explanation for the holdup."

_Okay,_ Hilde thought. _Now I'm starting to feel a little bad about all this._

"He went to that much trouble—for me?"

It came out a crackly squeak, just a hint above a whisper. Hilde was just grateful that she wasn't crying. Yet. Pregnancy sucked.

Heero shrugged. "By the time I got there to see what was going on, Duo was already on his way back here. He was afraid you'd be mad, but he didn't think you'd dump him."

"Aww, crap," Hilde muttered, blinking back the tears. She wouldn't blame the baby this time—she'd be crying even if she wasn't pregnant. "I still don't get why he just ran off without saying anything, though. Idiot."

Apparently Heero didn't have an answer for that one. He just pushed a box of tissues toward her and got off the end table. The song was winding down; the dance wound end in a minute, and Duo would notice the two of them talking.

"He is an idiot," Heero agreed. "But for better or for worse, he's your idiot now. Nothing can erase the fact that the two of you have a child together. So you might as well give it a shot. If you don't, you're always going to wonder how things might have worked out."

Hilde blew her nose so she wouldn't have to answer. She wasn't sure there was a whole lot left to say anyway; Heero was clearly finished talking. He was already walking away, leaving Hilde alone in her corner with that stupid blue box on the arm of her chair.

He really wasn't one for goodbyes. Maybe he just didn't feel like there was anything more he needed to say. Whatever the case, Hilde wasn't sure it was any of her business. Heero was Relena's problem now, the same way Duo was hers, and Hilde thought that was probably for the best. She had enough to think about. Like the baby. And Duo. And that stupid, stupid box.

Except it wasn't quite as stupid as it used to be.

Hilde sighed again and picked it up. Duo was deliberately not looking at her—they'd been carefully avoiding each other all night—so it was easy enough to drift up to him without catching his attention.

"Hey," she said when she was an arm's length away from him. "I think you lost something."

He jumped when he noticed her standing right behind him—it wasn't easy to get the drop on the God of Death, after all—but his hands were gentle when he closed her fingers around the box.

"It's yours anyway, Hilde," he said. "Since you don't want to keep it, you should sell it and use the money for the baby. Start a college fund. Something."

Hilde shook her head. "The market sucks right now," she reminded him. "And—Heero told me everything. I completely misunderstood you, Duo, and I'm so sorry."

The last sentence was barely a whisper, but Duo's eyes went wide when he heard it. He shot a look in Heero's direction, and Heero returned it with a shrug.

"Relena talked him into it," Hilde mumbled. "She told him he owed you a favor."

Duo cracked a smile at that and chuckled softly. "I never thought I'd see the day when that guy took directions from anybody," he said. He sobered too quickly. "Hilde, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that none of this would have happened if you had told me what was up instead of just vanishing for three whole days so you could go beat the crap out of some poor jeweler," Hilde replied. "And—and I'm saying that we should see this through. Together. If we don't at least try, we're always going to look back and regret it."

Duo looked doubtful. "So does this mean you'll marry me after all?"

Hilde pretended to think about it for a second. "Ask me again tomorrow," she suggested, pressing the ring box back into Duo's hand. "It's beyond tacky to get engaged at somebody else's wedding."

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><p>Notes: I can't remember why I wrote this, but it's kinda cute and I'm a sucker for a happy ending. Anyway, tell me what you think. :D<p> 


	3. The Talk

It was a moral dilemma of epic proportions. Her dad had confided in her, after all, and Faith didn't like to break a promise or share someone else's secrets. But she knew she was in trouble and spilling the beans might be the only way she could save herself.

Besides, it wasn't like her dad had planned on surrendering to the Red Fang. And Faith was sure that, secret or no secret, he would probably not want her to go insane and die, as Zero predicted she would.

Finding the right words was hard, though. She had bided her time all afternoon, convincing the doctor to release her from the hospital, riding home alone with Duo, waiting until the right moment—which was about to be over—and she still had no idea exactly what to say.

"Duo?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you—have a minute?"

His shoulders tightened visibly when Faith asked, and it was obvious that he didn't _want _to give her any more of his time, at least not tonight. But then he blew out his breath in a long sigh and came to sit beside her.

"I think a minute, Fay," he said. "But that's it. You promised you'd rest, and I'm holding you to it. You look like hell, kiddo."

A minute wasn't good enough. Faith still wasn't sure how to begin. Or if she should even say anything. But she knew she had to try.

"What happened to the gundams after the war ended?"

Duo sighed again and Faith was afraid he thought she was wasting his time. He never liked talking about what he used to do. He'd always said that war wasn't the sort of thing that should be glorified, that he was afraid it would only encourage the younger generation to pick up where his own had left off, and Faith had never been able to get anything more out of him. She hoped tonight would be different. That it would be a way to lead into what she had to tell him.

"I blew it up," he told her shortly. "All of the gundams were destroyed because we knew having weapons like that around would just encourage more fighting. The world was at a point where weapons were no longer necessary, and we wanted it to stay that way."

Faith nodded; she'd heard this before. His voice was cold as he said it, and his eyes were hard. Duo didn't like talking about the gundams. Or the war. Faith looked away, unable to brave the intensity in his stare. She wasn't up to this after all, she decided. Not tonight.

"It's late," she said softly. "I'm sure you don't want to talk about things that happened a million years ago. Why don't we just pretend I never asked?"

From the corner of her eye, Faith watched Duo stubbornly cross his arms over his chest. "I have a better idea," he said. "Why don't you just tell me what's eating you, Faith? I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

_I can do this_, she thought, meeting Duo's eyes again and seeing only concern for her. _If Duo thinks he can help, then I have to trust him. I don't want to lose my mind. I've lost enough already._

"Dad—didn't destroy Wing Zero," Faith whispered. "He said it was all deactivated, but it wasn't. The Zero System is still operational—and I don't think it's all in the gundam anymore."

"What—what do you mean?" he asked. Faith heard the fear in his stammer, saw it in his widened eyes, and knew he understood what it was like to be a slave to the machine. "Faith? What did you do?"

"I never meant for this to happen," Faith whispered. "I wish Dad never showed me that awful thing. I wouldn't have gone near it if I had known its full capabilities."

She mumbled through the story, starting with how her dad had taken her to the gundam's resting place in the catacombs of an old castle and ending with what she had seen before she fainted in the spaceport that morning.

"I don't want to go crazy," Faith finished. "Duo, what happened to the other pilots? Is this why you never want to talk about them? Did they all go insane and die, too?"

"No, not at all," Duo said, smoothing her bangs out of her face. "They were just able to keep their anonymity. I couldn't, not after I got captured and OZ plastered my face all over the news. Heero couldn't, either, but that's because he married your mom. People wanted to know more about this _nobody_ who just up and married the vice foreign minister and, somehow, somebody found out and published it. That's all. Nobody went crazy. Nobody died. And I'm not going to let anything happen to you, either."

"I don't see how you can stop it," Faith said morosely. "I hear it. I _see _it. I didn't think this thing could get to me outside Wing Zero's cockpit, but it's here. Following me around. Locked inside my head. I can't get rid of it!"

"Easy," Duo murmured, pulling her into his arms. Faith detested the closeness, the smell of the hospital that still clung to Duo's shirt, but she didn't fight him. "Just try to calm down. Zero thrives on fear, and stressing yourself out over this is only going to make it worse. Understand?"

Faith nodded.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"That's your job, then, Fay," he said. "Just focus on staying calm. Leave the rest up to me."

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I don't know yet," he said. "I need to make a phone call."

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><p>Notes: Cut scene from the end of Chapter 7. After going over the chapter, and the outline for Chapter 8, I decided this was really unnecessary. I guess I'm posting it here as kind of a teaser for Chapter 8, although I don't think I'm spoiling anything.<p> 


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